Head Shot
by RaiLei
Summary: [oneshot] When fighting the DG soldiers, Yuffie finds out that Vincent has a odd technique when shooting a gun ... [Yuffentine] “You talk to Reeve about girl stuff?”


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_Bang!_

Yuffie sighed, opening her candy wrapper, discarding the wrapper onto the table top. She rolled her storm grey eyes as she watched another round of bullets embedded themselves into the movable targets.

"He's _so_ loud," Yuffie mumbled, taking a bite out of the chocolately goodness. "Che, he's so inconsiderate."

Tifa laughing, flinching as another round of bullets sounded. "Just be glad that the Plexiglas is there, it'd be louder then."

Yuffie nodded with a frown. "Yeah, oh, we should gang up on Reeve for this."

Laughter interrupted Tifa's response, the door of the small room swiftly closing. "Now, why would you do that, Yuffie?"

Yuffie froze; her chocolate bar falling down onto the table. "Heh, hey there Reeve . . . how's it going?"

"Fine . . ."

"Oh good!" Yuffie chirped, picking up her forgotten candy off the table. Yuffie blinked, sensing Reeve staring at the back of her head.

"So," Reeve started, moving to sit down beside Tifa. "Anyone care to explain why Yuffie wants to gang up on me?"

"You actually went and got a shooting range," Tifa said, resting her head in her arms.

Reeve arched an eyebrow, looking over Tifa's head at Yuffie. "What's the big deal, Yuffie? You can always use it too."

"I know," Yuffie sighed, taking another bite of the chocolate bar. "That's not my point though."

"Well, I'm sure Vincent would loan you his gun . . ."

Tifa smirked, biting back a laugh. Yuffie, on the other hand, threw her head back as she laughed. "The day Vincent loans me his gun would have to be . . . no, not even on his deathbed," Yuffie paused, frowning slightly before shrugging. "Not that I can carry Cerberus anyways."

"Just borrow one of the handguns; they're all in the storage cabinet."

Yuffie shrugged, finishing off the chocolate bar, tossing it at the Plexiglas window.

"Hey, want to hear something?"

"Depends on what it is," Tifa said, her voice muffled by her arms.

Reeve laughed, looking over at Yuffie. "What's it about?"

". . . Vincent . . ."

Tifa groaned. "Everything's always about Vincent now."

"Wait, wait," Yuffie yelled, turning in her swivel chair to face the two. She scowled slightly, raising her hands in front of her, waving them before her. "Not that, Tifa! It's an observation, kind of funny, actually."

"What would that be?" Reeve asked before Tifa could comment.

"Glad you asked, Reeve," Yuffie chirped, crossing her legs and leaned her arm on the table's ledge, propping her head on her fist. "I first noticed it when I followed Vincent into the WRO with our struggle against those Deepground jerks."

Tifa perked her head up, eyebrows raised as she looked intently at Yuffie. "What is it?"

"Vincent is _mean_ with his gun."

Reeve laughed, nodding in agreement. Tifa smiled slightly, shaking her head. "We all know Vincent's good with a gun."

"Not that," Yuffie whined, shaking her head. "Vincent is _mean_ with that gun – with or without Chaos."

"How so?" Reeve asked, his tone mirroring Tifa's.

"Seriously, haven't you guys noticed it? Every time Vincent shoots Cerberus, he always shoots them in the head! Didn't you _ever_ look at the bodies?"

"Um . . ."

"Well, Vincent knows what he's doing . . ."

"That's all you have to say?" Yuffie questioned. "Aren't you worried?"

"Worried about what?" Tifa asked.

"Imagine what Vincent would do to us if he got _really_ pissed off."

Tifa bit out a laugh. "Watch what you say then, Yuffie."

"Better not annoy him too much."

"Vinnie wouldn't shoot me!"

Reeve grinned, casting a glance at Tifa. "I'll bet you ten gil that he shoots her if she calls him _Vinnie_ one more time."

Tifa grinned too. "I'll match that, Reeve. I'll give him a day – a week, max – of being called that."

Yuffie pouted. "You're both mean; he wouldn't shoot me!"

"Come on Reeve," Tifa chirped, grabbing his arm. "We have a bet to put in writing."

Reeve nodded, following after the bartender. "Bye Yuffie."

"Bye . . ." Yuffie called as the door shut behind them. She frowned, resting her chin in her palms. "He wouldn't shoot me! He wouldn't! Sure, he's _threatened_ to do it, but he wouldn't hurt me! I know it!"

"Know what, Yuffie?"

Yuffie froze, turning around in her swivel chair. She blinked, she knew that tone. She smiled slightly, seeing Vincent standing opposite her, hanging up his ear plugs up on a wall tack.

"Hey Vincent," Yuffie chirped, springing up from her chair, candy wrapper in hand. "You wouldn't want to know – girl stuff."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "You talk to Reeve about girl stuff?"

"Uhh . . ." Yuffie trailed off, inwardly cursing herself. Vincent _always_ had to know more then he let on. "Well, we were talking about you."

"Me?" Vincent seemed surprised. "Did you come to a conclusion you like, then?"

"I have a question actually," Yuffie called, flicking the lights off, the door closing behind them as she followed after Vincent.

"What is it?" Vincent asked, exasperated.

"I noticed it when we were fighting Deepground, you, um . . . always – and I _mean_ always – shot them in the head. Why?"

Vincent paused, silence ensuing between the two of them as they approached the elevator.

". . . You don't have to answer, you _hardly_ do anyways," she bit out with a frown.

"It was the simplest way to kill them; they taught us that in training to be a Turk." He shrugged, pressing the elevators buttons.

Yuffie paused beside him. "You sound like you don't care."

"I don't," came the short reply.

"You're mean."

"There was a reason behind it all," Yuffie scoffed at his words, rolling her eyes. The elevator door sprung open and the two filed in, pressing the buttons for their floors. "It was one of the fundamental training rules."

"Okay . . . so what was the reason?"

"Deepground was trying to destroy the planet, we couldn't let that happen. Without aggression, the planet would be on its way to being completely destroyed."

"Oh," Yuffie mumbled, dropping her eyes to the floor.

Silence once again surrounded then, the ding of the elevator as it stopped on the desired floor breaking the quiet. The doors opened up, pale pink walls and light assaulting them.

Yuffie blinked, looking over at Vincent. "Well . . . goodnight Vincent, don't worry though – I think the planets been _saved_ enough times now."

"Yuffie . . . that wasn't my only reason for doing that."

"I know," Yuffie mumbled, passing through the doors. "Reeve asked you to help."

"Well, that too, I suppose," Vincent shrugged, his crimson eyes staring at Yuffie.

"Shelke," Yuffie cut in, dejected. "You and her are a lot alike, I mean you're both stuck in those bodies permenately."

"Shelke . . . she can take care of herself."

"Then who?" Yuffie huffed, placing her hands on her hips.

"It's," the doors started to close. Yuffie leaned in closer, keeping the gunslinger in view. "You."

The doors closed with a bang.

Yuffie blinked. Did Vincent just mean what he said? Yuffie grinned brightly, pushing the button to call the elevator back to her floor.

Sure, he was mean with a gun . . . but he was mean for _her_.

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A/N: I got this idea when a friend and I were playing DoC late at night. I was using the scope on the gun, and every shot hit the DG soldiers in the head. She said I was being mean, ha ha.


End file.
